


Vying vs Loving

by cuddlesome



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Height Differences, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Muscles, Requited Love, Rival Relationship (kind of), Some Plot, nessa just took one look at this manlet and fell for him, that's some relatable content right there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Nessa thinks that being Milo's rival is the best she can get, but she couldn't be more wrong.
Relationships: Rurina | Nessa/Yarrow | Milo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Vying vs Loving

**Author's Note:**

> He was a farmer, she was a fashion model, can I make it any more obvious?

Nessa’s self-proclaimed rivalry with Milo is partly an excuse to see him more often. She makes it a point to escape from the demands of her position as a gym leader and her modeling career every once in a while just to go visit. 

None of the other gym leaders have his particular brand of charm. There's something admirable about someone confident enough to sprint off after an escaped wooloo with no regard for how he looks to every other person in Turffield. All thirty-five of them.

Then there's his huge smile, his soft voice, his stocky body...

Nessa sighs heavily, exasperated with herself. Her crush is embarrassing and doubtless he doesn’t reciprocate it. Despite how fun-loving he is, Milo tends to isolate himself from other people in favor of being a workaholic. If it's not battling, it's setting up the challenge with absurdly heavy hay bales, and if it's not that, it's shepherding the wooloos or tending to his garden. He probably doesn't have room in his head for thinking about a relationship. Doubtless that's why he doesn't even esteem her with the honor of calling her his rival.

It seems almost too quiet out in the country with only the occasional yap from a yamper to break it. Nothing like the sounds of the ocean intermingled with the train in Hulbury. Then again, it's almost dusk, and everyone must be at home.

Nessa intercepts Milo just outside of the farm with a wooloo under his arm. The pokémon looks sheepish, for lack of a better word. A yamper prances around his feet, tongue lolling out.

She falls into step beside him. "Another escape artist?"

"Of course."

"You might want to consider reinforcing the fence so you don't have to go after them every time."

"Where's the fun in that?" He sets the wooloo down on the other side of a fenced-in area. "Go back to your friends, you.”

He gives the wooloo a little push on the rump and it rolls over toward the rest of the herd. The yamper squirms under a small hole in the fence, doubtless the reason the wooloo got out, and follows after. Milo straightens up, dusts off his hands, and looks at her.

“I suppose you want a battle?”

In answer, she takes out a pokéball. “Don’t you dare take it easy on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There's never a bad time to show up at the farm and challenge Milo to a battle. Nothing crazy like they do in the arena. Just a good old-fashioned battle that she inevitably loses.

It's sunset when the battle begins. It's still sunset when it's over; that's how fast it ends.

"Thanks for the battle, Ness," Milo says, recalling his shiftry.

From anyone else, Nessa might suspect mockery, but never from Milo.

She revives and restores her pokémon with the supplies she brought in anticipation of failure.

"We'll get him next time," she assures her drednaw, just like always, then addresses Milo. “Thank you. I’m really lucky to have you as my rival.”

Milo avoids eye contact and fiddles with his trainer’s glove.

“What?” Nessa pushes, returning drednaw to his ball.

“I don’t know why you insist on that term,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t see you that way.”

“We both want the same thing. I have to beat you.” She tries to force herself into her calmer persona, but it’s so difficult to do when he’s being like this. “Are you embarrassed to be associated with me? You don’t want a loser for a rival?”

“No,” he says, aghast. “You know my line of losses is leagues longer than yours, besides.”

She steps closer to him. He has to tilt his head far back to maintain eye contact, almost losing his sunhat in the process.

“What is it, then? I can’t imagine why else. I’m not exactly chuffed to bits that you don’t want to be called that.” She yanks her fingers through her hair in frustration, uncaring about when they catch on snarls. "I don't know why I come here. Do you want to have anything to do with me? Are we even friends?"

"Yes!" He looks desperately sad and that only upsets her more.

"Why don't you prove it, then?"

Milo bites his lip, fiddling with the pokéballs hanging at his hip. He always has to fidget with something or tap his foot, never content to be still. It's equal parts endearing and annoying. Then he straightens, a resolute expression on his face. He closes the last bit of distance between them and takes her hands in his. She blinks, unsure what to make of the gesture. 

"Nessa, you have to understand, you'll never be my rival."

Her heart sinks like a stone in the ocean. Her eyes sting. She almost drags herself away right then and there, but what he says next stops her.

"You and I can something else. Something better, I'd say. So much more." He presses her hands to his chest, and she can feel the steady thump of his heart.

He looks taken aback at his own forwardness.

Her face feels hot. "What are you saying, Mi? That you don't want to be rivals because you... like me?"

"'Course I like you. Everybody likes you."

Nessa scoffs. If only. Maybe in Halbury she's popular, but a lot of comments online would disagree with him. And besides...

"Don't be thick. You know what I mean." She cups the side of his face to punctuate. "You _like me_ like me?"

It's a teenaged way for a grown adult to express it, but apparently Milo needs things simplified to that degree. He swallows and nods. She can't recall ever being this close to him and certainly never touching him like this.

"Why didn't you say that before?" She asks, shaking her head.

He leans against her hand. "I wasn't in danger of losing you as my friend before. I was content to just never tell you how I feel because I thought... never mind what I thought."

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to drag a confession out of you this way."

"I forgive you."

She doesn't know what to do. She feels like she's drowning. 

The strongest emotion regarding him, other than the overwhelming desire to beat him in battle, is that part of her that's intensely attracted to him.

So Nessa does the first thing that comes to mind. She leans down and kisses him.

Milo startles and makes a muffled noise of surprise but doesn't pull away. He doesn't seem to know what to do with his arms. They hang in the air on either side of her until she guides his hands to her hips. He doesn't know what to do with his mouth, either.

She’s better at kissing, which makes her pride rise a little. She has to be able to beat him at something.

Her hand creeps up under the hem of his shirt. The jersey material is pleasantly cool. Gym leaders live and die in their uniforms. Even she feels reluctant to take hers off in exchange for modeling clothing.

His belly is a lot chubbier than his arms, evidence of indulgence in a few more pieces of oran pie than strictly necessary. She kneads and squeezes at his middle, feeling the hardened straight abdominals clenching underneath the soft flesh. 

She reaches down with her other hand to pull the jersey off altogether. She has a sudden, overwhelming desire to see his pecs in all their glory.

“Nessa,” he says, pulling away, “not while the pokémon are watching.” 

She glances over her shoulder to see two dozen plus pairs of horizontal pupils staring at them, plus the yamper's.

“Can’t you... you know, tell them to bugger off?”

“I could, but they probably wouldn’t listen. Ornery things,” he says with a hint of pride.

“Some shepherd you are.”

She starts to pull him by the wrist towards the house.

“We can’t go there, either,” Milo protests. “Mum and Dad and Barry'll be very... curious."

Oh, right. This is his parents’ place. They'll probably object to him bringing a city girl in to get busy, especially with his little brother there.

That leaves going out into the wilderness and potentially getting attacked by wild pokémon. Great.

As if reading her thoughts, Milo says, "The wooloo probably pose more of a threat to us than anything out there."

That settles it. She drags him away from the ranch and into tree cover near Route 5. This far away from cities, the stars and moon are bright enough to see and light the way.

"Just to be clear," she says, looking back at his face, and then down at where they're still holding hands. "I want to go all the way with you."

"All the way where?"

She stops and he runs into her, almost managing to knock her over. He can't be this oblivious. He just can't.

She lets go of his hand, turns around, leans over so that they're nose to nose, and says, "I want to fuck you."

"Oh," he breathes.

"I want to go out with you and take you out on dates and eat seafood together, too," she says. "But for now we're skipping a few steps because you've held out on me too long on what you really feel and I have... a lot of pent-up frustration. That okay?"

"Yes." 

He gives her a little peck on the lips as if to seal the assertion. Her insides melt.

Once she's sure there's no one around, she kicks off her heels, takes off her jacket, undershirt, trousers, and pants in short order. She's used to getting things off quickly thanks to the necessity of quick changes between modeling and battling. She overdressed considering that her destination was a farm. Still, everything including her unmentionables lay on the ground in no time. Her pokéballs are kept in easy reach in case anything were to show up.

Milo fiddles with the cloth around his neck, watching her. She strikes a pose that she knows will show off her best assets, cocking her hips to one side and tossing her hair over her shoulder so it won't cover her breasts. The model in her can't help it. He blushes to the point of obscuring his freckles.

She jerks her chin at him. "Now you."

Milo grins and nods. He hesitates for a moment, then tosses off his hat and sets to work on the rest. Nessa's mouth goes dry watching the corded muscles move under his skin as he undresses. The sheer bulk of him should clash badly with his sweet baby face, but somehow it all goes together. Her clit throbs.

Curiosity moves her to look at his bits the moment they're exposed. He's got a really cute cock. Like the rest of his body, it's short and thick.

Finally, he's naked, looking at her with a smile but a definite hint of nervousness in his eyes. Nessa licks her lips. She reaches out to touch one of his firm pecs, satisfying her desire from earlier to touch the bare skin. He has a fine layer of pink hair on his torso, almost invisible in the low light. She tweaks his nipple with her thumb. He shivers.

She looks at him through her lashes. "You look really good."

He laughs and she wonders if he's unused to compliments; is anyone in Turffield brave enough to hit on their mentor figure? "Thanks."

"You can touch me too. I'd be offended if you didn't."

He doesn't need any further prompting. His big, calloused hands all but swallow her chest whole. She's always had small tits that only got smaller with her intense exercise routine for modeling, but she doesn't like them any less for it. Milo seems to agree. He squeezes until the dark skin of her breasts bulges between his rough, pale fingers. He presses her mouth to her shoulder, then to the spot where her neck meets her jaw, then hesitates at her lips.

"Want to snog again?" Nessa asks.

"Mmhm."

They do, with a lot more tongue and groping this time since there are no impressionable pokémon around. She drags her hands down his back, slowing on his trapezius and lats. He’s so burly, she could spend forever just worshiping all of that homegrown muscle. She claps both hands to either side of his arse and is pleased to discover it’s both plump and firm.

For his part, Milo is a lot more tentative with skimming his hands over her body, never settling on any one place for too long. Even now, he's so shy.

His cock pulses warmly against her thigh. Again, the kiss is messy and unfocused, but she enjoys the warmth and wetness of it if nothing else. They separate, gasping against each others' mouths.

His big hand strokes her hairy pubic mound, then a single digit presses in on her clit. And presses... and presses...

"You know what you're doing there?" She asks. 

He hides his face between her tits. "Not at all. It's that obvious?"

She coaches him on how to touch her after that. He's a quick study, and in no time at all he's teasing her wet, puffy lips and clit like he's done it for years. She strokes his dick in turn, pleased with how it pulses and twitches in her hand.

When she deems them both more than turned on enough, she kneels and takes out a condom from one of the zipped pockets on her discarded trousers. Milo raises his eyebrows.

"Don't give me that look," she says, laying a hand on one of his muscular thighs. "It never hurts to be prepared."

So saying, she rips open the wrapper and rolls the condom over his cock. 

With little pomp or ceremony, she flops onto her back in the grass and spreads her legs. It's beyond cliche to want to be positioned like this so she can look in his big green eyes and touch all over him and kiss and all of that cuddly shite, but she's well beyond caring. He kneels down, bracing himself on his forearms, and aligns their hips. Short or not, his muscular bulk would crush her guts in if he fell down on her. Somehow she doesn't feel worried. His arms are more than strong enough to support him for however long he needs.

Half-teasing, she asks, "So you know how to do this, right?"

"'Course. It's just like when the wooloo mate," he says it sagely, but can't hold back a smirk that gives away that he's teasing, too.

It's at this point, as the tip of his cock nudges at her, she notices his scent more than ever. He mostly smells like sweat and hay and the bit of dustiness that comes with handling wooloos that roll around in the dirt. And then there's that general farm smell, the plant life mixed with fertiliser one, which should be gross but isn't. She knows she doesn't have room to talk regardless with the briny reek of the sea and fish smell, alive and dead, mixed in with her roselia perfume.

She’s ripped from her thoughts as he snaps his hips forward, burying himself in her. She cries out. He almost drags himself back out, stopped only when Nessa grabs one of his hips.

“Not so fast,” she hisses between her teeth at the sudden burning stretch, too girthy for her initial wetness to prepare her. “Not at first.”

He looks horrified. “I’m sorry. I got excited.”

“I can tell. It’s okay, just give me a second.”

She breathes deep, staring at him and counting the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. He pants through his mouth and licks his lips. It doesn’t take much for her to relax enough that her pussy can handle him.

“Okay, shortstack,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead."

He pulls halfway out and thrusts inside with a series of wet squelches. Her pussy oozes around him. Soon enough there’s a tempo to it. He shags her with a level of stamina that she should have expected but didn’t. He’s been working all day, where does he get this energy?

She crosses her ankles over his lower back and pulls him in as deep as his squat length can go. Milo groans and buries his face in her chest, continuing to thrust his hips within the cage of her legs.

She pets his hair. “You like my cunt, Milo?”

“Yes, yes,” he murmurs against one of her tits.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

"I love your cunt, Ness," he says, voice thick with arousal. "Feels so good to stuff it with my cock."

He declares it loudly enough that any camping trainers nearby doubtless hear it.

She leans back, trying in vain to smother moan-laced giggles with her hand. "You're not as proper as you'd like everyone to believe, are you?"

"I am," Milo protests, "you're just a bad influence."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," she laughs, then cuts herself off with a gasp when he manages to hit on just the right spot inside of her.

She can't resist reaching between her legs to rub at her clit, knowing it would be too much to ask Milo to balance on one arm and stimulate her there himself. Her walls clench around him and he makes low, animal noises, sucking hard enough on her breasts to bruise them.

He lasts longer than she expects, but it's still not much time later that he cums. He all but shouts, arms trembling and glistening with sweat as he works to keep himself from collapsing on top of her. Just the sight of his cute face, pinkish-red and rumpled with ecstasy, is enough to make her follow soon after. Her toes curl and her back arches with the warm pleasure pulsing through her. It's only accentuated by Milo drawing it out, teasing all her sensitive spots.

When she comes down from the high, he pulls out of her in a gush of her juices. The condom is tugged off and tied up in a clumsy but no less effective way. He moves to one side and collapses on his front beside her. One of his hands gropes in the grass for a moment before landing on hers and squeezing it.

"I think I'll go to sleep right... here," he says, yawning.

"You can't," she says, though she yawns, too. "Wild pokémon, remember?"

"We could have one of ours stand guard." 

At this point she's sure he's joking, but she presses on, trying to play at still being affronted. "We can't let them see us naked."

"Pokémon are always naked, though. They won't mind."

"Wasn't it you who was embarrassed to have me take your shirt off in front of the wooloos earlier?"

He hums in faux-thought. "No, I think I'd remember that."

"Get up, you divvy." She kicks his leg lightly.

"You first."

She does, and makes a valiant effort at dragging him up by the arm while he plays dead in the grass. After some time, though, they're both dressed and ready to go. It's way too late for a taxi, so he invites her back to his place for the night. He notices her legs wobbling like a newborn deerling's and scoops her up in his arms to carry her home. Again she's impressed at how he still has the energy to do something like that and hopes that he isn't overextending himself for her sake.

“My family should all be asleep by now," he says once they reach the door to the dark house. "They probably think I was out late on league business. We just have to be quiet.”

They arrive in his room without incident and manage to clean off the worst of the sweat and sticky fluids before they're both asleep. Nessa sleeps deeply, only to be awakened when Milo tries to extricate himself from her grasp the next morning.

She buries her face in his chest, trying to keep him pinned to the bed. "What time is it?"

"Five."

"AM? Go back to sleep, it's way too early."

"Can't, I've got chores. You know what they say about the early rookidee."

She groans. "Fine. Just let me hold you a little while longer."

She squeezes him tighter for good measure and looks up at his face. His eyes are bright with liveliness. Like he's full of pent-up energy, just waiting to go spend the next few hours setting up his gym and working the land and chasing after wooloos all over again. 

"You all right, love?" Milo asks, touching her hand where it's loosely draped on his stomach.

"Yeah. I just like looking at you." She snorts softly. "'Love.' Is that really what this is now?"

She almost can't believe he has any interest in her at all, much less that they fucked out in the woods like wild pokémon the night before.

He strokes her knuckles with his thumb. "If you want it to be."

He says it casually, but she can sense that he's nervous for her reply.

She kisses him, then tosses her hair with a grin. "Beats being your rival, anyway."


End file.
